


Smithereens

by izayoi_no_mikoto



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Explosions, Gen, Italy, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Pre-Canon, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayoi_no_mikoto/pseuds/izayoi_no_mikoto
Summary: They want some kid named Sawada to be the Tenth Vongola boss.  Gokudera would rather blow it up and watch it burn.





	Smithereens

Blowing shit up usually made him feel better.  
  
The school called, of course.  As punishment, Bianchi sat him down for a stern talking-to, one eye twitching like she was actually angry instead of just enjoying the opportunity to razz him.  It made him want to puke his guts up and die.  Then she sent him to recuperate with Dr. Shamal, who of course would have none of it.  "I don't treat men," he said bluntly, dismissing Hayato with a lackadaisical wave of his hand.  "Go be sick somewhere else."  
  
So Hayato went home and curled up in bed, glaring at the wall as though it were responsible for his curdling stomach.  It wasn't, of course.  He still felt sick, but it wasn't the wall's fault.  At this point, it wasn't even Bianchi's.  
  
_Fuck_ , he thought, his fingers itching for a cigarette, or maybe a stick of dynamite.  _Fuck._  
  
He glared at the wall some more, rage still churning in his gut, and then he got up, stormed out, and went back to school.  It was nighttime by now, late enough that every last teacher had long since gone home.  A bit of dynamite took care of the locked gate--he could have picked the lock or jumped the gate, but fuck that, he was in the mood for destruction--and then he was in.  He stalked to the charred concrete that marked where a bench had stood until he'd blown it to smithereens this afternoon.  Then he set off a few sticks of dynamite on the same spot.  
  
It should have made him feel better, but it didn't.  So instead he blew up every trash can on campus, one by one, a cigarette smouldering at his lips as he lit stick after stick of dynamite.  The explosions were immensely satisfying, and the concussive shock waves made him shiver, but as soon as the smoke blew away, the raw, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach returned, more acidic and grotesque than before.  
  
Soon he'd blown up every trash can he could find, including a few that he was pretty sure even the janitors had forgotten existed.  In the end he stood panting furiously, down four cigarettes and a week's worth of explosives, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes narrowed and that gaping hole still eating him alive from the inside.  
  
"Fuck," he said, " _fuck all of you_!"  And he was screaming, now, his voice breaking, his throat rending, no words, nothing but white-hot rage.  
  
At last his voice failed him, and he could do nothing but gasp for air, trembling.  He gnashed his teeth and wished he could blow up all of Italy.  
  
No.  Not Italy.  He wanted to blow up all of _Japan_.  
  
It was absurd.  It was infuriating.  The Vongola Family was going to be entrusted to some idiot Japanese kid?  One who was a clueless coward, if the photograph was anything to go by.  Some guy who didn't know anything, who just happened to be born into the Vongola bloodline, who knew nothing of Family or honor or loyalty or courage or--  
  
Hayato groped for another stick of dynamite, but he was out.  There was nothing more he could blow up.  Nothing else he could do.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth until his jaw creaked.  He couldn't accept this.  He couldn't.  He _couldn't_.  
  
Then he opened his eyes and stared at the ground, his mind racing.  He couldn't accept this, couldn't accept this Sawada kid as his next boss, but maybe he didn't have to.  If he went to Japan, if he _proved_ that Sawada didn't deserve to be the Tenth....  
  
He felt his lips pull back into a sharklike grin.  
  
Gokudera Hayato wasn't called the Smoking Bomb for nothing.  He was good at blowing shit up.  He could blow this up, too.  And by the time he was done, the entire Vongola Family would wish they'd never even heard of Sawada Tsunayoshi.  

**Author's Note:**

> (inspired by the prompt: 100 words of lonely bombs)


End file.
